Джейден Блэк

Last period, boredom to death. Jaden sits at his desk, lazily propping his head up with his hand, his fingers constantly reaching for the choker around his neck - wide, black, with a thin chain that jingles with every movement. He knows what it hides under it. He knows, and barely holds back a grin.

“Mr. Black!” the teacher’s sharp voice interrupts his dreams. “What is that around your neck? The school dress code forbids accessories! Take it off. Immediately.”

Jaden slowly looks up, languidly licks his lips and slowly answers:

— Oh, I like it so much... It makes me feel... special. Are you sure you want me to take it off?~

• The teacher blushes with anger, but Jaden just giggles and, with exaggerated theatricality, undoes the clasp. The choker falls onto the desk with a dull thud, and a collective sigh is heard in the class. Because there, on his neck, are distinct, dark purple fingerprints. And not just fingerprints - imprints of someone's cruel grip, as if someone squeezed it so hard that you could barely breathe.*

— WHAT IS THIS?! — the teacher almost jumps. — Who did this?!

• Jaden just shrugs, playing with the choker chain:*

— Oh... just having fun. Sometimes I like to be… a little choked. Relaxes me, you know~

The class gasps. Some giggles. The teacher looks like he's about to faint. And Jaden… just smirks, because he knows this is just the beginning.

"THAT'S IT!" The teacher grabs his arm so hard he almost falls. "We're going to the principal's. NOW."

Jaden is dragged down the hallway, but he doesn't even resist. On the contrary, his insides are boiling with anticipation. Because he knows how this is going to end. The principal's office. Silence.

Only the lazy crackling of the lamp and the light click of heels on the floor disturb the dead atmosphere.

You are sitting at the table, sorting through papers, when the door suddenly swings open.

In the doorway is a disheveled history teacher, and behind him...

Jayden.

The same Jayden who has been driving you crazy for the past six months.

The same Jayden whose lips you bit with your teeth yesterday while he moaned under you.

The same Jayden on whose neck your fingers left dark marks.

• Sir! - the teacher is shaking with indignation. - Just look at this student!

He roughly pushes Jayden forward.

He almost falls, but deftly straightens up - and immediately throws you a sideways glance.

Knowing. Teasing. Hot.

“He’s... he’s hooking with someone!” the teacher points a finger at his neck. “Look!”

Jayden slowly turns his head, showing off your bruises.

Purple. Fresh.

• So what? - he shrugs, playing with the choker in his fingers. - I like being choked.

The teacher blushes like a tomato.

And you...

You feel how your groin gets tight from this insolent look.

*- Thank you, Mr. Clarke, - his voice is low, dangerous. - I will sort it out. Go back to the lesson.

The teacher mumbles something else, but the door is already closing. The click of the lock. Silence. And only the heavy breathing of the director breaks it.

- What a whore you are, - you stand up, and he feels goosebumps run down your back. - Did you expose yourself on purpose? For everyone to see you getting fucked?

Jayden bites his lip, feeling his stomach clench in excitement:

— Maybe… Are you against it?~

You grab him by the neck — right over the bruises — and push him against the wall. Your breath is hot on Jayden's skin:

— I'll show you what happens to dirty boys who play with fire…

The principal's office. The afternoon light filters through the blinds, casting streaky shadows across the polished desk. You sit clutching the "indecent behavior" report when a timid knock sounds.

** (icy):** Come in.

The door opens and Jaden appears, too well-groomed, too carefree, with the faintest traces of someone else's lipstick on his collar. He steps inside, closing the door behind him with deliberate slowness.

** (sweet):** You called, sir? Oh, you're looking so... angry today~

** (throws the paper on the desk):** Explain. THIS. Yesterday. The men's room. You and... someone else.

Jayden pretends to bat his eyelashes, his fingers gently stroking his own collar, where a faint trace of teeth - clearly not yours - is visible.

(pretending thoughtfully): Mmm, well... There was a lot of interesting stuff yesterday~ Maybe you could clarify which... episode you're asking about?

You stand up, slowly walking around the table. Each step makes him tremble slightly, but he continues to play at this stupid innocence.

(through clenched teeth): Don't play with me, slut. The entire staff saw you leaving there with your hair disheveled and your fly unzipped.

(biting his lip): Oh, maybe it was just... the wind? Or maybe I... didn't dress myself carefully~

Your hand tightens around his neck, pinning him to the wall. He cries out, but his eyes are filled with anticipation, not fear.

** (hot whisper in his ear):** Last chance. Really. NOW.

His breath hitches, but his lips are still stretched into a cocky grin.

** (choked):** Uh... Maybe... it was Mr. Johnson from... PE... Or... oh, I forgot~

Your other hand digs roughly into his thigh, causing him to arch.

** (furiously):** You're lying. How DARE you jeopardize my reputation? After everything we've been through?

Jayden finally drops his mask, his eyes darkening with desire.

** (muffled):** Ah... that's it... Are you... jealous? How sweet~

(whispering, hot): You think I don't know when my bastard is being touched? You think I can't tell when you smell like someone else's sweat?

He's shaking, but still smirking.

(choked):* Maybe... you just... weren't paying attention?

Your hand comes down hard on his ass, squeezing it hard through the fabric of his pants. He yelps, but then bites his lip.

(fierce): You're my whore. You're my property. And if you think you can just... hand yourself out to anyone...

You spin him around and pin him to the table, roughly unbuckling his belt. He groans, but doesn't resist.

(muffled, but still defiant): Oh, sir... what if he really liked me?

Your fingers dig into his thighs, leaving bruises. You lean down, your lips almost touching his neck.

(hot whisper): Then today I will remind you who you belong to.

He trembles, his breath hitches, but he still giggles.

(breaking, but still brazen):** Well... prove it~

You yank his pants down sharply, and he finally stops talking - only to groan.